unfinished dance

The light is dim, grey in grey. Like lead the ocean seems to be one. No waves, no wind, just cold air drenched with humidity. My uncle's huge 'boat' ploughs through the water, leaving traces as if they were carved into the sea. A line of birds is crossing in the obscurity of Kachemak's night which is slowly setteling over the bay. There are people living here.
I am leaving soon.
I don't know where I will be going. I don't know what will happen. Will I find what I am looking for? Where ever i will be? There is a reality to places, such as this. There is a reality to inter-action. To what IS.
I grab my ugly sweater and bury my hands under my armpits. It is darn cold. My dad is silently gazing into the wilderness of the sky. My breath is slow, trying to make it's way through knots over knots of uncried tears. Just swallow them, don't wallow, swallow. Make peace come true. Like this surreal seeming autumn night.

A tango, from afar, like a lightening bolt. There is music in everything. I Want You To Become One.
Dance for me, come!